Don't **** the pheasant
As the cruel core can
keeping dinner all to himself
A hunter, a man, a driven idea
Has not eaten what is in the pan
With no material, a harsh life itself
A fib is spoken aloud from his lips
"I would never shoot that bird"
This bird is my friend, a part of me
Yet her wings make a blur to tasty to look at
without him saying the word
"Shoot" he shouts as I die
Jul 21, 2025
Jul 21, 2025 at 12:59 PM UTC
Don't **** the pheasant
As the cruel core can
keeping dinner all to himself
A hunter, a man, a driven idea
Has not eaten what is in the pan
With no material, a harsh life itself
A fib is spoken aloud from his lips
"I would never shoot that bird"
This bird is my friend, a part of me
Yet her wings make a blur to tasty to look at
without him saying the word
"Shoot" he shouts as I die
Somewhat derived from "Pheasant", by Sylvia Plath. Same symbolism's! © Sep '22, Lee
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